


After the End

by ReyloBrit



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Post-TRoS, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyloBrit/pseuds/ReyloBrit
Summary: Ambassador Ben Organo-Solo is asked to attend a celebration to mark the anniversary of the end of the war, the defeat of Palpatine, and is reunited with the woman whose life he saved. The woman he once loved. Rey Palpatine of Naboo....And then her face cracked, lines skating over her features like the forming of fissures across the surface of ice."You left me."Her words stabbed at him, plunging into his gut like she'd once done with her saber. Gripping the wall, he stared down at his feet and his polished shoes."Rey.""You left me all alone," her voice cracked too, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her."I would've given anything, anything, to stay.""No!" There was anger now as she drew herself up. "You were a coward.""Coward?" His face flicked to hers, bewildered at the rage he saw. "I saved you.""Why?""Because I loved you.""You left me to live without you, to live with that pain and that emptiness."
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97
Collections: Comfort Gems 2020, For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange, Reylo Hidden Gems





	After the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [witchsoup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchsoup/gifts).



> Thanks so much to theresonatinglight for the super helpful beta!

Ben wasn't listening. He hadn't been for some time.

He sat hunched in a low cushioned chair, running his hand over his face and feeling the roughness of the stubble that had grown on his chin over the preceding days. Dark shadows ringed his eyes, and his skin was tinged with grey. 

The space flight here had been long and difficult, requiring his full attention. Despite this, he'd insisted on coming alone. Over the next few days, he intended to blend into the shadows and disappear. He certainly didn't want the company of an entourage, who would fuss over him, wind him up, and draw the unwanted attention of others.

He'd made the effort to come, after all, as they'd requested. That was enough. He'd do his bit and go.

The entrance hall they’d brought him to was vast; a domed chamber lined with carved pillars and sweeping steps leading up into its belly. The ceiling glinted gold and nude figures were painted on its surface. They stared down on Ben's head, their eyes clear blue like the sky. 

A mischievous breeze lifted the skirts and cloaks of the many beings gathered in small groups in this great hall. Outside, the sun began to descend behind the sprawling city of towering buildings. Around him, voices hummed, an occasional cry of welcome ringing out above the din intermingled with the whirl of spacecraft engines and the clatter of entering and leaving footsteps.

An older man with a beard that curled at its ends rattled on before Ben, oblivious to his companion's disinterest. Dressed in a splendid cloak of midnight silk embroidered with silver stars and golden suns, he stood in stark contrast to Ben's dusty and dirty appearance, his clothes plain and practical. To his side waited a protocol droid, obviously buffed and shined for the occasion, patient and accommodating as ever.

The man proceeded with care to make his way down his list of instructions: where Ben needed to be and at what time, what he was required to wear, and what he would be expected to do. 

The information was both useful and vital. Without it, Ben would end up wandering the endless maze of corridors lost and was certain to slip up as he tended to do when not adequately briefed. He often said the wrong thing - he lacked an ease with strangers (with anyone really), unlike his once well-known and beloved parents.

But despite the need to listen, he didn’t. The other man could not be blamed for failing to grasp this. After all, Ben appeared outwardly composed, despite his mind frantically whirling inside his head. That was something he'd learned in recent years: the ability to hide his emotions, to control his temper.

The bearded man continued his monotone speech, but Ben had stopped listening.

He'd stopped listening some time ago, when the man had explained the arrangements for that evening - the firework display and the procession, followed by the gala dinner. It had all seemed bland and simple enough. Ben had even considered that this part of the celebrations would allow him time to relax before the more taxing and necessary mingling and political maneuvering.

But then the man had mentioned her name.

That name.

Of course, he'd heard it uttered over the years. Maybe, if he was completely honest with himself, some part of him had even known she would be here. She was a war hero like him, however much the truth of their story had been morphed and forgotten. But he'd pushed that thought aside, buried it away like he had all those memories. Those memories of him, of her, of the war they'd come here to mark the end of.

But now there was no escape.

She would be here.

And in the box with him tonight.

His heart pumped in his chest a little too hard, and a queasiness rose up from his gut. He wished the man would leave. That old urge to smash something - to crush and destroy it - loomed large, and if he succumbed to it, he would rather do so in private.

"Is it possible to show me to my quarters?" Ben rose to his feet, towering over the smaller man.

The man peered up from his data pad, clearly surprised at the sudden interruption. "I'm yet to finish your briefing Ambassador Organo-Solo. If you would-"

Ben swallowed back the urge to glare. Gone were the days where he could command or bully in order to get his way. Now he had to deploy tact and diplomacy. "I apologise Lord Siminar, but I am exhausted from the flight and would prefer if this could be done later."

The other man hesitated, twirling the tip of his beard around his jewelled fingers as he eyed Ben. "I can send you this itinerary, but this is the only opportunity for me to answer any queries you may have."

Ben picked up his large bag. The droid stepped forward to take it from him, but Ben shooed him away and slung the strap over his broad shoulder. "Thank you. You have been most helpful." He took a purposeful step in what he assumed was the correct direction, and the man bowed with a tight smile on his lips. The droid bumbled beside him.

"If you would be so kind to follow me, Sir, I will lead you to your chamber,” it said.

Ben nodded curtly and followed the droid. The winding corridors bustled with more beings, many recently arrived like himself, several already adorned in the bright colours of their national dress.

He found it disorienting: the buzz of voices, the flashes of material, the glimpses of eyes and skin and teeth. Around every new corner they passed, his heart stopped fleetingly, sure he'd seen her, certain he'd heard her voice. 

But it was simply his tired mind playing tricks on him, and he longed for the peace of his own room.

Finally, the droid stopped before a pair of dark wooden doors and entered a pin code. The heavy doors unlocked with a thud and Ben pushed his way inside, flinging his bag on the marble floor.

"Can I get you-" 

"Leave me please!" Ben snapped, strolling to the large wall of windows on the far side of the room and gazing out at the rapidly darkening sky, alive with darting spacecraft.

The droid's clunky footsteps retreated and the door closed with a thump. But Ben remained transfixed at the window.

_Where was she?_ he wondered. _Had she heard yet? Did she know?_

He ran his fingers over his smooth lips. He had an hour. An hour until they'd meet.

….

The box was in fact a balcony of carved rock that swept high above the arena where the celebrations were to take place. There were other similar balconies sculptured into the sides of the huge cliff that dominated the west side of the stadium. Each contained a simple stone bench and a tree or bush that offered shade during the day. Below him, the arena squirmed to full capacity and the sky dotted with crafts floating overhead. 

The other balconies were sparsely filled. The distinguished guests were yet to arrive, so it felt queerly quiet suspended above the booms of loud speakers, the pounding of drums and the squeals of brass.

Ben knew he was early, but he hadn't been able to help himself. He'd tried his best to wash and dress slowly but an untameable eagerness had hurried him along despite his best efforts. And so now he was compelled to wait. He strode to the balcony's edge, hoping the view would distract him. He twisted his hands in his pockets, picked at his buttons, flattened his unruly hair with his hand. 

Below, the great floats lined up, bustling each other keenly, brightly lit so that they shone out in the darkness like giant floating balloons. Each was decorated to represent a different world or system. There were plain earthy ones that he assumed were from the desert lands, sparkling blues that conveyed vast oceans, and the lush greens of vegetation. Around them swarmed the performers, tiny insect-like dots, ready to start the procession. The chatter of the crowd rose higher and higher.

Ben turned away from it and there she was, illuminated brightly by the lights of a small ship.

He looked at her.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

He fought to suppress it but a chortle broke free from his throat. 

Again he tried to swallow it. And failed.

He chuckled.

His hands flew to his mouth, smothering the noise, but soon, his whole body shook with the force of his laughter.

The woman, her face covered in a thick white paste, her hair wound in large discs around her head and her body hidden below the thick folds of woven material, watched him silently. He'd know her anywhere, even hidden behind the mask of thick paint, her hazel eyes were as bright and vibrant as ever.

"What's so funny?" And her voice - always brimming with the passion she tried her best to hide - hadn't changed either.

Ben held up a hand in apology, trying again to regain his composure and floundering as another wave of mirth overtook him.

She frowned and a little line of darkness seared the white makeup .

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he peered at her cautiously from below his brows, "It's just you look…."

"How do I look?" Her eyes flashed with an all too familiar anger and immediately his humour left him. Suddenly he felt cold, like a bucket of water had been thrown over his head.

His smile vanished and a neutral expression returned to his face. "Hello Rey," he said, then hesitated before thrusting out his hand.

Rey stared down at it with a curling top lip as if he were offering her a poisoned apple.

'After all this time and…" She shook her head and he dropped his arm.

No, it wasn't how he'd imagined this. And oh, he'd imagined it so many times. The nights he'd lain awake playing over in his mind what he'd say to her, what he'd do, and none of the scenarios had gone this way.

"Shouldn't you be rotting in the depths of some fortified prison?" She snarled.

"Probably, but it seems they thought it would be better this way."

"Better for whom?" Her jaw hardened.

"For peace, for stability, for the Galaxy. Ben Solo, son of the much loved General Organa, nephew of the hero Jedi Skywalker, is no threat. But putting the war criminal Kylo Ren on public trial could stir up all sorts of difficulties."

"You mean among all those senators and diplomats who were once high ranking officers in the First Order."

He shrugged. "I thought you'd be down there," he gestured to the arena, "centre stage, the heroine who saved us all."

"That's one version of the story. They talk more about the armada of ships these days. I'm a side note." It was said with no anger, no sadness. It was simply an observation. "Besides that's not my thing. Better done by Senator Dameron."

Flinging her head back so that the jewels hanging from her ears jangled softly, she strolled to the edge of the balcony, the heavy fabric of her dress weighing her down so that her steps were slow and laboured.

Watching her go, he swallowed, his mouth dry and his tongue thick, all the words he wished to speak stuck in his throat and lost in his befuddled brain. She leaned over to peer down at the procession just beginning, the roar of a thousand voices bellowing upwards, and he plunged his hands back into his pockets, stalking cautiously towards her.

It would be better if they didn't speak. He suspected it would only be painful for him if they did, like rolling on broken glass, but he'd never been able to resist her. There'd always been this push and pull between them as if they were bound by gravity; him constantly spinning around her as if she were the sun and he her planet. Yes, he'd always thought that - she'd always shone so brightly, so fiercely, forcing him out of the shadows, casting him with light.

"I'm sorry." 

The words were too loud and she flinched slightly, although her eyes didn't leave the dazzling spectacle below. "For what?" she whispered. He wasn't sure. 

The cheers faded and he came to stand a pace away from her, bending over the stone wall, his elbows resting on the top.

"Why are we here together?" she asked, her gaze still locked away from him.

He shook his head. "I don't know. Someone somewhere got sentimental I guess."

Her eyes shot to his. "Does anyone still remember?"

"I do," he glanced at the blood red painted across her top lip and dabbed at the centre of her bottom, where it bowed ever so slightly.

For a moment, they were sucked back there. Back to that time five years ago and his heart ached so fiercely he couldn't breathe. But then, her head turned slowly away and her shoulders sagged as she exhaled.

"It was all so long ago. I don't understand all of this," she dragged her hand through the air in front of her, "all this fuss, all this celebration, the need to remember. I'd rather forget it all."

"Then why come?"

"For the same reasons as you I assume. Compelled by my people."

"Naboo?"

She nodded and her earrings swayed once more, almost scraping the dip of her shoulders.

"Rey Palpatine of Naboo." He studied her.

"Yes." She twisted to face him. "For a while, I ran from that name but in the end, I realised it's who I am. Why be afraid of it?"

"You weren't afraid of the backlash. You never cared what people thought of you."

"No, and I am the Last Jedi." She said the words with bitterness, like that name tasted rotten in her mouth. "It has its advantages."

She perched on the wall, the heavy skirts of her dress scraping the ground as she moved. Behind her, the sky sparked and fragmented with shooting fireworks and the swirl of dancing laser beams. Here in the balcony, the contrasting stillness deafened, not a breath of wind, or a rustle of leaves. Just the fall and rise of her chest beneath her black gown.

And then her face cracked, lines skating over her features like the forming of fissures across the surface of ice.

"You left me." 

Her words stabbed at him, plunging into his gut like she'd once done with her saber. Gripping the wall, he stared down at his feet and his polished shoes.

"Rey." 

"You left me all alone," her voice cracked too, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"I would've given anything, anything, to stay."

"No!" There was anger now as she drew herself up. "You were a coward."

"Coward?" His face flicked to hers, bewildered at the rage he saw. "I saved you."

"Why?"

"Because I loved you."

"You left me to live without you, to live with that pain and that emptiness."

He took a step towards her, his arms reaching for her but she raised her hands, pushing him away.

"I'm sorry," he dragged his hands over his face, smooth after his earlier shave. "I never could do the right thing when it came to you."

She scoffed.

"No. Never." Her little hands, protruding from the long billowing sleeves of her outfit, balled into fists. "But I convinced myself you did it for love. That you loved me. And then I felt you come back - I didn't believe it at first but then I heard the rumours too, and I waited for you. I waited, Ben." She bit down hard on her lip and twisted away from him, as his hands found her shoulders.

"Rey, I did come back. Of course I came back. But…."

His fingers gripped her firmly, holding her in place.

"But what?" she spat, meeting his gaze.

He hadn't been able to come straight away. When they'd pulled him back, it had taken time to regain his strength, and then there had been many questions about where he'd been. What could he tell them? His memory of it was hazy. Disconnected images that would never come into focus no matter how hard he strained his eyes. They were like patchy dreams, like watching a scene through fog.

When finally the questioning had stopped, they still hadn't let him go. There were endless discussions about his fate, what they would do with him.

If he'd still had that power in the Force, he would have tried to connect with her. It had been so easy in the past. As easy as choosing to speak. But he wasn't the same. Wherever he'd been, it had stripped him of much of his power and his strength.

His only choice had been to track her down, and it hadn't been easy. Scuttling across the galaxy, never staying in one place for too long - she seemed unsettled, a lost soul. It reminded him of his father, and he was desperate to find her. But then he'd begun to hear tales of her travel companion, of the great love affair between the Last Jedi and the Hero Trooper. He hadn't believed it at first. She was his and he was hers.

Then after weeks of searching, he'd finally found them. The crew at a fuelling station had seen the Jedi and the Trooper only a day ago. They'd been headed out to the grasslands.

Leaving his spacecraft, he'd set off on foot, trudging through the long swaying blades, seeing no living creature bar one lonesome snake that glided across his path silently. The sweet smell of the vegetation calmed his racing heart and reminded him of her earthy smell. She'd always been more real than anyone else he'd ever met. As if she'd been born of the land and not the family the Galaxy despised.

By sunset, he spied the settlement on the horizon, a small collection of metal huts, glinting yellow in the setting sun. His pace quickened. The last few yards passing in the blink of an eye. 

He knew exactly what he'd say. Exactly how he'd take her in his arms. Exactly how her soft smiling lips would taste.

Then he'd seen her in the distance, a black silhouette against the coloured sky. The shape of her was just the same. Her hair was tied up the way she always wore it and a staff was strapped to her back.

His feet pounded the ground, racing him towards her, his feet as light as air as the distance between them narrowed. But as he drew closer, a second shadow joined her - well built and broad. It came to stop next to her, sliding an arm around her waist, pulling her close and she rested her head on its shoulder.

Ben halted, his body falling over his feet, his face landing in the dirt.

Doubts had already crept up on him during the long restless nights, they'd whispered in his ear, wormed inside his head. Haunted by voices once again.

_It was not she who rescued you - and she never came to find you. Even now, she hasn't come,_ the voices said. 

With so little experience of love, how could he believe someone as good as her would love him still, had ever loved him? He couldn't hate her for it. He wanted her to be happy, to be safe. It's why he'd given her his life. But for himself, he felt sadness. That old familiar rejection. He turned and hurried away.

Ben looked at her again now and the pain of it was still there, lodged firmly in his heart.

"They told me you were with the Stormtrooper. That together you'd taken my Grandfather's name, my Uncle's. I didn't believe them. I came to find you and you were with him."

Her mouth fell open, and she shook her head vigorously. Her hands covered his. "No."

"I saw you together."

"He may have wanted...but I never...we never." Their fingers interlaced although neither acknowledged the joining of their hands. "You could have reached out to me - in the Force, through the bond."

His jaw stiffened. "I couldn't find it. I am not the man I once was." Gently he added, "You could have found me." It was a fact, not an accusation.

"I was scared of what I'd find."

"As was I. I thought you'd moved on - I didn't want to hurt you any more."

A tear fell from her black lined eyes and formed a path down her face. He swiped at it with his thumb, the white smudging away to reveal the pinkness of her flesh.

"Take it off," he said, rubbing at her face as her tears ran down her cheeks. "I want to see you."

He pulled out a handkerchief and she scrubbed at her lips, until their natural rose colour returned, then wiped away the white paste.

"You haven't changed," he whispered. "Still beautiful."

"Where did you go, Ben?"

"Somewhere I can't explain. A place of inbetweens."

She nodded as if this made sense, studying his face.

"It's too late," sShe said, handing him back his handkerchief.

He took it from her, their fingertips brushing against each other's. "I know."

Sighing, she shuffled to the tree and ran her hands over the bark, leaning against the trunk, resting her forehead against a branch.

"This is harder than I expected it to be," she said.

Back in those war days, they'd been inside each other's heads, in each other's thoughts and in each other's dreams. They'd both seen each other's desires - the longing both felt to touch the other. Yet there'd been too much holding them apart - his darkness, the First Order, the Resistance, Palpatine. And so they'd always fought instead. 

There had only ever been one kiss between them. Fleeting and brief, the bright light before he’d slid away into the darkness, whipped away to that other place.

He wanted to touch her now. To comfort her. To stroke the slope of her neck.

"Rey. Tell me about your life."

"Why?"

"Please."

"There's nothing to tell. I got tired." She lifted her head and picked a green leaf from the tree, rubbing it between her fingers and inhaling the scent. "I wanted a home. Where could I go? Naboo seemed like the only place and, despite everything, they welcomed me."

"Are you happy there?"

"It's very beautiful."

"It was my Grandmother's home."

"I know." She let go of the crumpled leaf and it fluttered to the ground.

"I'd like to see it again. My mother used to take me there when I was a child."

An explosion of pyrotechnics sparked in the sky and jets shot across in formations as the crowd roared in appreciation. She turned to look and they both watched in silence.

The air was warm, but she shook and he thought it must be the memory of that last stand, that final battle. Looking up now into the vast black sky as they had done on Exegol before everything had been snatched away from them.

"I dream about it," she confessed as if she'd read his thoughts - perhaps she had. "I'm dragged back there. I don't like to sleep."

"You are the bravest person I've ever known, Rey." He was drawn to her again, little cautious steps until he was by her side. "My little scavenger, fighting to survive, fighting to save us all." He smiled at her with affection in his eyes. "I remember the way you always hissed and spat at me - unafraid."

"I was always afraid. I still am."

"Of what?"

"Of always being alone."

"You're not alone." He reached out his hand and cradled her cheek. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.

"I wish that were true."

"I've never lied to you."

She cupped his hand in both of hers and, tilting her head, kissed the palm of his hand. 

It was the smallest, most tender of gestures. Even now reformed and redeemed, he'd been shown so little kindness, so little warmth. His family were all gone and he'd never had friends. Except her. 

He pulled his hand towards his own face, clutching her callused hands tightly in his fingers, kissing each of her worn knuckles with awe.

Then, he tugged her to him. For a heartbeat she resisted, banging her fists on his chest, then she collapsed into him, her whole body sagging against his strong frame, her head resting upon his fluttering heart.

"Stay with me," she pleaded.

Lifting her chin, he kissed her lips; a kiss full of the longing and love he'd kept buried for too many years.

"Always," he replied.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


End file.
